The Complete Red-Hot Collection. Kelly Hunter

she said ominously.

      But Scott wasn’t listening. He looked a heartbeat away from a nervous breakdown.

      ‘Well, Kate, we’re here,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it.’

      He stripped down to a pair of well-worn board shorts—in which he looked mouthwateringly good. And then he came to her, took her face in his hands. Licked slowly along one cheekbone, then along the other.

      ‘I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time,’ he said. ‘You are so absolutely beautiful when you blush.’

      ‘Scott, this is not going to work,’ she said a little desperately, hanging on to her resolve by a thread. ‘I told you. No rollover. I’m done.’

      ‘It’s not about the rollover and we’re not leaving until we do it—so get your gear off.’

      ‘That surfer—’

      ‘I can handle one surfer.’

      ‘But anyone could come past.’

      ‘Yeah—I know. It’s a bit like the night Officer Cleary frisked me in Ellington Lane.’

      ‘That was different.’

      ‘How so? Did you know we wouldn’t be caught?’

      ‘No, I didn’t know. But it was dark and I…’ She huffed out a breath, aggravated. ‘Really, I just didn’t care.’

      ‘And there I was, thinking you were law-abiding!’

      ‘I am. But I’m not conservative. And you are, Scott.’

      He touched her hair. ‘And yet here I am, trying to get you out of your clothes on a beach in broad daylight,’ he said, and smiled—and his whole face lit up with it.

      Her heart lurched. That smile. Devastating.

      ‘Scott, don’t do this to me,’ she said shakily. ‘Stop doing this to me.’

      ‘I have to do it. Kate, please. You’ve got to let me. Just this one thing. For you. Please, Kate. Please let me.’

      Kate looked into Scott’s eyes—they were warm and serious and…and desperate. Looked at the waves. Back into Scott’s eyes.

      Why was she fighting it? The man she was in love with was offering to make her a gift of her ultimate fantasy. She’d be like Willa and Chantal—her most romantic moment would be real. And she could pretend, couldn’t she, that it was love?

      ‘All right,’ she said, and wondered if he’d finally driven her mad as she stripped down to her one-piece black swimsuit.

      Scott took her hand. Gave her a look redolent of bravery. ‘Shall we?’

      She nodded, but wondered if this memory—precious though it would be—was going to be worth it, given that every time it surfaced in the future her heart would break all over again.

      Scott led her into the surf, just far enough for them to duck under the water and get wet.

      ‘No further,’ he said. ‘I can feel the water tugging, and this is going to lose all its romance value if we get swept out to sea and either drown or get eaten by a shark.’

      He pulled her into his arms.

      ‘And in any case…’ he said, backing her towards the shore. Backing her, backing her, backing her, and then dragging her to her knees, where the waves were breaking. ‘This is the money shot, right?’

      And with that, he eased her flat onto the sand, and then he was on top of her, kissing her as if he’d happily drown as long as his mouth was on hers.

      The water surged over them. Receded, surged, receded. For the longest time they stayed there, waves breaking over them, Scott’s mouth on hers, tongue thrusting, mirroring the breaking of the waves over their bodies. Over, over, over. Way longer than the scene in the movie.

      Eventually he pulled back, just a fraction, smoothed her hair off her face, gazed down at her. And something was shining in his eyes that made her long to have him inside her. She wasn’t supposed to want it any more—she was supposed to have ripped him from her heart—and yet she did want it…did want him. She ached with need.

      A sudden strong wave took Kate unawares and she choked on sea water. Scott grabbed her hand, dragged her out of the wash and up the beach to dry land, where she dropped to the sand and rolled onto her back, spluttering, laughing, coughing, eyes streaming.

      And despite the fact that she was half drowned, deranged, probably a little snotty, Scott dropped to his knees beside her and looked at her as though she were the most wondrous thing he’d ever seen.

      He was smiling, and there were tears—tears!—in his eyes as he rolled with her on the sand until she was on top of him.

      She snaked her fingers into his wet hair, wanting him so much she thought she might seriously burst with it.

      He looked up at her, so serious. ‘So, Kate, what’s the Latin for And so endeth the contract?’

      She froze. And so endeth…?

      Oh. Ohhh. Her breath caught as the pain hit.

      It all made sense. Today was the twenty-eighth of February. The last day of their contract. She’d given herself to him at his house on Tuesday, fulfilled the contract to the letter, but he had to wring that little bit extra out of her—even after breaking her heart. Probably thinking she’d let him get away with this latest manipulation because he was using her secret fantasy to do it. And who wouldn’t want their ultimate Play Time, right?

      Hating herself for letting him do this to her—hating him—Kate shoved herself off him, got to her feet, started pulling on clothes over the dampness and sand.

      Scott had felt the change in Kate that split second before she’d rolled off him.

      ‘Did I stuff it up?’ he asked, getting to his feet. ‘Because I thought… I mean I watched the movie… I… I thought that was…’

      The words tapered off as Kate skewered him with a glare.

      Was this the part where she told him he was too late? That she didn’t love him any more? No, he couldn’t face that. Didn’t—wouldn’t—believe it.

      Scott started dressing, just to keep his hands occupied while he waited for her to speak, to give him a clue about where he’d messed up. But she didn’t speak and he couldn’t take the silence.

      ‘Are you going to tell me what I did wrong, Kate?’

      ‘You know.’

      ‘No, I don’t.’

      ‘The twenty-eighth of February,’ she said coldly.

      Scott looked at her blankly.

      ‘February twenty-eighth!’ she snapped. ‘You couldn’t resist having the last word, could you, Scott? One last Play Time—and using my deepest, most secret fantasy to do it. Good job. For someone who said he would never hurt me, you sure wield a sharp knife.’

       What the hell—?

      She picked up her bag. ‘So when is Brodie coming back for me?’

      ‘Brodie’s on his way to Sydney,’ Scott said. ‘I’m taking you back.’

      The blood drained out of Kate’s face.

      ‘What?’ he asked urgently. ‘What did I do?’

      She laughed—and it wasn’t the joyful laughter they’d shared in the waves. ‘Today. Last day of the contract, right?’

      ‘Yes…’ Still bewildered.

      ‘I’ve spent three days tearing you out of my heart, and thanks to your little stunt today all that work is lost. I’ll have